


We Two, Together Again

by AngelQueen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something small about him, far from the imposing man he’d been in his youth, and the tyrant he became in the last decades of his life.</p><p>Tag for 4x03 <i>The Wicked Day</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Two, Together Again

She feels his demise even here, in this world between worlds, the space between spaces. She does not know what causes it, does not know the story that leads him to this point, but she senses it. Only once before did she ever sense a death in such a manner, and that single loss led to a holocaust beyond all imagining.

She walks through inky blackness, following sounds that she somehow hears despite no longer having ears. It is like following a dim light from a long distance, even though there is no light that she could somehow see despite her lack of physical eyes.

She finds him at last. He is older than she left him, his thin grey hair no longer cropped close to his head but now whispy and curling. There is something small about him, far from the imposing man he’d been in his youth, and the tyrant he became in the last decades of his life. It is strange, how different he seems.

He must sense her approach, because he turns to face her. His expression has a listless, vacant quality to it, but when he focuses on her, something sharp crosses through his eyes. Yes, she knows that look. Once, it had infuriated her. Once, it had enraged her. Now, it amuses her.

“Uther.”

“Nimueh.”

She gazes at him, preferring to wait in silence. She won’t have to wait long. He never did tolerate such moments well.

“Why am I here with you, witch? Where is…” he trails off, his eyes darting this way and that, looking, searching for someone who isn’t there.

 _Where is Ygraine?_ That is the question he cannot bring himself to complete. Even now, his wife’s ghost is ever a presence between them. Once, she had resented it. Now, she is resigned.

She shrugs. “I know not. I have seen no one since I came here.” She looks at him. “How did you come to be here, my lord?” She mocks him with the title. Never once was he a lord of hers, more was the pity, or so she’d once thought in her more foolish moments when she was younger.

He turns away, showing her his back. “I died,” he says. He peers into the blackness beyond them, and she cannot help but do likewise. Much to her shock, she actually sees something.

 

 _Vivienne’s daughter, her beautiful face twisted with madness and hatred, smiling as she lays a charm necklace into the fire, whispers an incantation over it._

 _Agravaine, his face puffier and more saggy than she remembers it being, leaning close to Uther’s face, hissing his words of revenge as he slips the chain over the king’s head._

 _An old man and Uther’s son attempting one last desperate ploy to keep the king alive, only for it to rebound in their faces. The old king gasps his final breath, and the new king rages._

 _Vivienne’s daughter weeps, alone in the night._

 

“Ah.” What more can she say? She’s known for some time that Uther would meet a grisly end, but even she could never have predicted that it would come at the instigation of his own flesh and blood daughter.

Come to think of it, she never knew he _had_ a daughter, much less a daughter with Vivienne. A part of her, the part that still longs for revenge and retaliation, wonders if Gorlois would have been so loyal to his liege if he knew his precious king had cuckolded him and gotten a bastard on his wife.

But does it matter? Such things are either for the living or for those who are not here. She shrugs off the instinct to push the metaphorical blade in his back a bit deeper.

“Come, Uther,” she says. “Let us see what is required of us here.”

If they were living, Uther likely would have snarled at her, proclaimed her an evil demon, and would try to kill her. As it is, he merely nods.

He’s never been so docile before.

She doesn’t like it, and as they move away, she begins thinking of all the things she can say to make him glare and shout at her.

She needs some entertainment, after all.


End file.
